I hike down the four-hundred-foot drop to the hot springs along the Rio Grande, an old stagecoach trail where travelers stopped to recoup. Though the cluster of cabins was destroyed by a flood in 1927, remnants of a bridge remain, embedded in the basalt. Local women gathered at the pools to bathe and wash clothes. Long before the Spanish arrived, the Pueblo Indians called them Wa-pu-mee, waters of long life.